Forgive Me, My Friend
by Wolf Maid
Summary: *In Need of Rewrite.* Aragorn and Legolas are playing practical jokes on each other…things get out of hand and Aragorn ends up getting caught by Orcs. Legolas will do all within his power to save his friend, but will he be in time?
1. Capture?

Author's Notes 

Summary: Aragorn and Legolas are playing practical jokes on each other…things get out of hand and Aragorn ends up getting caught by Orcs.  Legolas will do all within his power to save his friend, but will he be in time?  Not slash, some torture (mostly implied) Please R&R!

Warning: Again…there IS some torture.  DO NOT READ THIS STORY, GET MAD BECAUSE THERE IS SOME TORTURE AND THEN FLAME ME!  If you do, then you obviously can't read, because I'm telling you right now, there IS some torture.  LOL, you better not yell at me because there's torture, or I swear…. =)

Disclaimer: Don't sue me!  Nothing in this story belongs to me except…oh geez!  Nothing belongs to me!  I think I'm going to go cry now…

FEEDBACK IS HIGHLY APPRECIATED!  IF YOU REVIEW MY STORIES, I WILL READ AND REVIEW YOURS!

LOL, yes I've resorted to bribery.  How sad.  =)

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Ch. 1--- Captured 

            Aragorn woke up slowly with an aching headache that, after several moments, he recognized as drug induced.  It also took about that long for him to realize that his arms were bound behind his back and his ankles were tied.  As soon as he stirred a heavy weight dropped onto his stomach, causing him to gasp as his breath was taken from him.

            Aragorn tried to position himself in such a way that he would be able to roll the person, for person it was, off of him, but he was tied too well to be able to move in such a way.  

After a pause, he felt the cold steel of a dagger pressed against his neck.  It dug into it, stopping any hope of a mistake or of talking his way out of the situation.  It was getting more and more out of hand, and all he could do was lay and wait for the other to make the first move.

It moved slightly, digging it's knee callously into his side.  Aragorn wondered where his companion had gone.  He prayed that he was safely away, that he had managed to escape before this person had captured him.  But his friend wasn't one to just run away without a fight.  

Knowing that he could do nothing but wait, and wishing fervently that he had found a more comfortable place to lay down to sleep—not that he had considered that he'd wake up with a sizable creature on his stomach—Aragorn tried to push the gag from his mouth with his tongue.  It was tied well, as he was sure the blindfold was.  He didn't even try to get the blindfold off, there was no way he could manage that subtly.

Then the being leaned forward and began to untie the gag.  Aragorn made no move to help or inhibit, preferring to merely lay still and wait.  Once the gag was off, Aragorn was still quiet and motionless.  The being, on the other hand, moved forward more and began to untie the blindfold.  Once it was off, Aragorn lay there for a moment, and then slowly opened his eyes, expecting the worst.

            And groaned.

            The person, or rather creature, that sat on top of him laughed lightly.

            It was a nice laugh.

            It sort of tinkled and trilled.

            Not the kind of laugh that you'd expect from a kidnapper.

            Except maybe this one.

            Now that the being had stopped laughing, it grinned down at him.

            Curse it, it even had a pleasant grin, although Aragorn had the strongest inclination to wipe it off with his fist.

            He would have, too, if he hadn't been tied up and sat on.

            Aragorn lay stiffly, not about to be the first to say anything.

            The kidnapper would speak when the kidnapper was good and ready.

            Not before.

            Damnit, _this_ one probably wouldn't speak at all.

            However, it surprised him, leaning back and studying his face and then leaning forward and patting his face. 

            "Did you have a good-night's sleep, mellon nin?"

            "Get the hell off me, Legolas."

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Yes, the orcs are coming!  I just had to set the stage.  And in case you didn't get that, Legolas was the "companion" and "friend" that Aragorn was worried about.  

P.S.  All will be explained!  (Including why Legolas tied Aragorn up) in the next chapter!  Of course, by then I'm sure you'll have some new questions!  lol

REVIEW PLEASE!  *puppy dog eyes*  lol, =)


	2. Hide and Seek

Author's Notes 

Summary: Aragorn and Legolas are playing practical jokes on each other…things get out of hand and Aragorn ends up getting caught by Orcs.  Legolas will do all within his power to save his friend, but will he be in time?  Not slash, some torture (mostly implied) Please R&R!

Warning: Again…there IS some torture.  DO NOT READ THIS STORY, GET MAD BECAUSE THERE IS SOME TORTURE AND THEN FLAME ME!  If you do, then you obviously can't read, because I'm telling you right now, there IS some torture.  LOL, you better not yell at me because there's torture, or I swear…. =)

Disclaimer: Don't sue me!  Nothing in this story belongs to me except…oh geez!  Nothing belongs to me!  I think I'm going to go cry now…

FEEDBACK IS HIGHLY APPRECIATED!  IF YOU REVIEW MY STORIES, I WILL READ AND REVIEW YOURS!

LOL, yes I've resorted to bribery.  How sad.  =)

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Deanna—Thank you!  Sorry I took so long!

Pip4—Thanks!  I thought I'd try to be *sneaky*  =)

Phoenixqueen—Thank you!  Yes, I am bribing people =) and I'm sorry that I didn't get through all of yours yet!  I did read several of them though, and you're a great writer!  =)

Kathleen LaCorneille—Thank you!  Sorry I took so long to update!

RJBosco—Thanks, I wasn't planning on it being funny, but you know how stories have a life of their own!

Oracle—Thanks, glad I fooled you!

SilverKnight7—your wish is my command! (in this case)

GrayWolfEyes—Yes, well, I didn't know the elvish equivalents…which I'm sure there are!  And don't worry, Aragorn deserved it!

Mystic23—Thanks, I will!

Konj—Thank you, I am going to try to make it lighter, all though it will be a bit angsty…sorry!  Only for a bit mind!

 Strider's Girl—Love the name!  YAY…I fooled someone else!  The Orcs are next chapter, and thank you!

BabeyRachey—Thanks, I will try to update regularly, I actually had this written out for a while but what with finals and everything I only now got around to typing it.  Sorry!  *looks guilty*

Lady Elessar—Thanks, glad I fooled you, and you'll find out in this chapter!

Niani—Thanks!  Here it is!

Shinigami061—Yes, it was short (sorry!) but I just wanted to get it out there, glad it seems interesting, and here you go!

Gozilla—Thanks, and here you go!

Purple Wolf Girl—I love the name!!!  Thank you!  Hugs to you!  As you wish!

Yavie Aelinel—Posting more, I will, and maybe I should!  All though bribery seems to work…this is the most reviews yet!

NOTE—As some of you may have seen, I AM following through on my bribery, I believe I have read at least one of everyone's story!  And it isn't just because of this, they're all REALLY good, which is why I'm so happy I'm getting good reviews from such good writers!!!  I will be reading your other stories, but some are up to like 20 chapters, so I'm reading them slowly but surely…the offer still stands for newcomers as well!

I figure it's a good way to find interesting fics…if you like my fic then we probably have similar interests and I'll probably like yours!  So REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   Thanks!

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Ch. 2—Hide-and-Seek

            Legolas laughed lightly at the scowl on Aragorn's face.  Get off him?  Was he joking?  Legolas was going to make sure that Aragorn paid for putting rocks in his bag.  Of course, Aragorn had only been retaliating after Legolas had destroyed his pants while he had been bathing…

            But that was beside the point.  This was revenge, and Legolas had every intention of caring it out.  After all, he had gone to all of the trouble of drugging him and tying him up, there was no way he was just going to let him go.  But now that he was tied up, what the heck was he supposed to do?

            Legolas shifted position on Aragorn's stomach unthinkingly, and then blinked when he saw a flash of pain on his face.  Looking down, Legolas realized he had just put most of his weight on Aragorn's hipbone.  He quickly shifted back, not ready to relinquish his triumphant position.

            "Well?" Aragorn's exasperated sigh shook Legolas out of his contemplations.  

            "Well, what?" Legolas replied, slightly irritated.

            "My friend, you are sitting on my chest.  Although you do not weigh as much as a man, your continued presence is making breathing difficult.  Either beat me up, leave me to die, make me promise you something, do something, or just _get the hell **OFF OF ME!**_"

            "Oh.  Um…" 

            "You did not plan this very well, did you mellon nin?" Aragorn smiled, slightly amused and slightly annoyed.

            "Silence!" Legolas scowled down at his prisoner while he desperately thought.  Leaning back, he cut the rope that tied Aragorn's ankles together, while still sitting on his hips and upper-thighs to prevent movement.

            Suddenly Aragorn pushed up and to the left with all of his strength, flipping his friend over and leaving Aragorn straddling Legolas.  However, since Legolas' hands were unbound and Aragorn's were, Legolas sat up and shoved Aragorn backwards, who in turn caught Legolas' legs in his own and turned the push into a backwards somersault, causing Legolas to flip forwards as well.  Unfortunately, when Aragorn went over backwards, he didn't just stop…they were on a slope and so they both continued to roll down the slope.  When they got to the bottom they were both understandably out-of-breath and sore—especially Aragorn, whose bound hands had not only taken much abuse but had also caused a painful lump in his back when they rolled.  However, it was with laughter that they greeted their sudden—and _very_ ungraceful—stop.

            "I—(gasp)—can't—(gasp)—believe that—(gasp)—we just—(gasp)—did that!" Legolas chortled (and gasped).

            "Did my—(gasp)—ears just—(gasp)—deceive me or—(gasp)—were you just—(gasp)—gasping?" Aragorn snorted (and gasped).

            "How—(gasp)—can you—(gasp)—dare accuse—(gasp)—me of—(gasp)—gasping?!?!" Legolas sniffed (and gasped), pretending to be offended.  With that he sat up and crawled over to Aragorn and started tickling him.

            Tickling him?

            Tickling _HIM_?

            _TICKLING_ him?

            _TICKLING HIM????_

            Yes.

            He sat up and started tickling Aragorn who—understandably—lay there unresponding and dumb-founded for several heartbeats.  Then—all though his mind still denied the fact—his body responded, and he started laughing.

            "Unfair!  My hands are still tied!" Aragorn protested through the laughs—kicking out weakly with his legs.  However, Legolas too was laughing, sore, and a bit tired for all of his elfness and didn't manage to dodge one of Aragorn's flailing legs which connected with his shoulder, not causing any real pain but knocking his still-laughing body over.

            They both lay there on the ground for several minutes—tired, sore, but unaccountably happy.

            "Imagine what Elrond would say if he could see us!" Legolas smiled.

            "He'd just be glad that we're not getting ourselves killed or into some other trouble again.  I swear, he thinks that we _try_ to get in trouble!" Aragorn replied.

            "I know.  Sometimes I think you do, at least!"

            "Legolas!"

            "What?" he asked innocently.

            "You're the troublemaker, and you know it!"

            "I would contend that fact if not for the recent events…"

            "Legolas, untie me."

            "No."

            "Legolas!"

            "No."

            "LEGOLAS!!"

            The elf sat up and grinned down at the outraged human.  Then, on a sudden impulse, he leaned over and covered Aragorn's eyes.

            "Count.  I'll go hide!!"  And with that he the elf was gone.

            "Legolas!  My hands are still bound!" Aragorn called after him, but there was no reply other than a faint shout of "count!"

            "Stubborn elf," grumbled Aragorn, rolling over and then standing up.  He began to follow Legolas' almost-invisible tracks.  Suddenly he stopped.

            He could sense something in the forest—something evil and something close.

            Very close.

            Aragorn closed his eyes and concentrated on this evil shadow in his mind with his other senses, slowly spinning in circles.  With a curse his eyes popped open: he knew what it was.  He recognized it now.  It was a warg!  No…it was a pack of them.  A pack of wargs out hunting, and heading very deliberately this way.

            "Legolas!" he called out…but there was no reply.  And they were getting closer.


	3. Of Wargs and Roots

I am SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO sorry to everyone who is reading this story!! PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!!!! I know it was terrible of me not to update for so long…but please…let it pass just this once…? =)

Honestly though, I do feel terrible, hope you all aren't _too _upset…

Love y'all!

(oh…none of this is mine except for the predicaments they'll keep falling into. =) ....I hate these new formats!!! argh!!!)

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Aragorn sized up his situation. His arms were bound behind his back and his weapons and food were still hidden in the trees above the camp except his sword, which Legolas had evidently decided to take with him. He was defenseless and vulnerable.

Insufferable elf!

"Legolas!" he yelled. He waited several minutes, not daring to yell again, knowing the wargs might hear. He whistled long and low, but Legolas remained silent, probably thinking he was trying to fool him.

Aragorn ran. As a ranger, he was used to running fast for long hours, yet the drugs Legolas had slipped him still ran through his veins. The wargs close and hungry, they had smelled their prey. Aragorn ran, yet as he ran he could feel the blood pounding hin his head, feel his pulse quickening, and suddenly realized.

It wasn't just something to make him sleep.

Legolas would have known that as a ranger he was practically immune to things like that.

No, he had understood that the only way to drug a ranger, especially one brought up by elves, was to give him Threneor roots.

Roots that made a man weak, not allowing him to do that much before pulling him back into unconsciousness. Damn the elf! He may very well have signed his death warrant.

Aragorn ran, feeling the drug begin to reclaim him, feeling his head pound and his stomach churn as he ran from the creatures hunting him through the trees.

His sixth sense kicking in, Aragorn threw himself forward. He was just in time, as a large grey warg landed in the place he had just been occupying. Knowing how useless it would be to run, Aragorn spun around and kicked out at the ugly creatures jaw, all the while running through his head different ways he could defeat a beast twice as large as him, hungry, strong, and mostly likely with friends when he was swordless, his hands were bound, and he was drugged.

For some reason or other he kept drawing blanks.

Barely holding his own with his swifter but rapidly slowing moves, Aragorn was not in the least happy when a second warg leaped into the clearing behind the first. With a muffled oath, he took a few quick steps backwards.

Into thin air.

He landed on his back as he careened head-first down the mud-slicked hill until flying off the edge.

An edge over two hundred feet above the rock-strewn ground.

He seemed to hang in mid-air for a second, and then he fell.

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A cliffhanger! HAHAHAHA! ………..it's okay…afterall, it is Aragorn. =)


	4. Of Branches and Orcs

Author's Notes 

Summary: Aragorn and Legolas are playing practical jokes on each other…things get out of hand and Aragorn ends up getting caught by Orcs. Legolas will do all within his power to save his friend, but will he be in time? Not slash, some torture (mostly implied) Please R&R!

Warning: Again…there IS some torture. DO NOT READ THIS STORY, GET MAD BECAUSE THERE IS SOME TORTURE AND THEN FLAME ME! If you do, then you obviously can't read, because I'm telling you right now, there IS some torture. LOL, you better not yell at me because there's torture, or I swear…. =)

Disclaimer: Don't sue me! Nothing in this story belongs to me except…oh geez! Nothing belongs to me! I think I'm going to go cry now…

FEEDBACK IS HIGHLY APPRECIATED! IF YOU REVIEW MY STORIES, I WILL READ AND REVIEW YOURS!

LOL, yes I've resorted to bribery. How sad. =)

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Sielge – Sorry I took so long to update, and I'm glad you like it =)

BabeyRachey—Um….would you consider this too long looks from side to side Sorry!

Galadriel Evenstar – Um….well, I'm updated….but as for _saving_ Aragorn….

Marbienl – Yes, Legolas is definitely going to get it when Elrond finds out…=)

Lindahoyland – Glad you find it entertaining =)

Shadowed Flames – Thanks!

Mornflower – lol! frowns yes, your cliffy's are bad!! shakes finger Thanks!

Elenlor Edhelen – Sorry for the short chapter! This one is a bit longer…And if anybody should be sorry for a late something, it's me…=( And yes, Aragorn will survive anything! And he'll have the chance to prove it…mwahahaha! =)

Nefhiriel – I won't stop, and I will post faster!

bberry06 – I know, poor Aragorn….I _almost_ feel bad =)

TenyaStar – Thanks! And yes I would…and you always do =)

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Aragorn fell off the edge of the cliff, twisting in midair to try to somehow catch himself. He was already ten feet down when he felt his back slam into something hard. Through the pain, his body automatically twisted, trying to catch whatever it was with his legs.

Once he stopped, he kept his eyes closed for several heartbeats, trying to gather himself together. Slowly he opened his eyes, and then groaned aloud at the impossibility of his situation.

His arms were bound behind his back, his legs were wrapped around the branch of a tree that was growing out the side of the cliff, and he was dangling over a two hundred foot drop. And that wasn't even mentioning the fact that even if he could miraculously get out of here, Wargs were hunting him.

Speaking of Wargs, he heard growling at the tops of the edge of the cliff, and sure enough there were several of them up there. One poked his head over the side and looked down, peering straight at him. Aragorn prayed desperately that it wouldn't try to jump down—if it knocked into the branch they would both fall to their deaths.

However, after several long minutes the Wargs left, and Aragron breathed a sigh of relief. His legs were already a bit sore, but he knew he'd have to wait a good ten minutes before daring to call Legolas for help. Hopefully the elf was near, because if he wasn't…. well, he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

When he first heard speech on the cliffs above, he thought he must simply be having hallucinations brought on by a drug-induced stupor. Desperately he tried to remember the other possible side effects, but to no avail. However, when he realized that the voices belonged to orcs, and that they were searching for him, he did remember something rather well.

As long as he got the antidote within 48 hours, there would be no serious problems. However, if he didn't, he'd begin experiencing dizziness, muscle weakness, uncontrollable shaking, and several other unpleasant things. Once he got the antidote, they'd go away, but in the meantime, he'd be in for a horrible couple of days. Aragorn knew that Legolas had never meant things to go so far, but damnit!

Aragorn's thoughts were interrupted by a Warg growl—evidently they belonged to the orcs, which would explain how the orcs came to know that he existed and was somewhere nearby. One Warg walked to the edge of the cliff and looked down, growling. Aragorn swore softly, there went his chances of getting away uncaught. The orcs, knowing what the Warg was getting at, followed and looked down as well. One orc, evidently the leader, permitted himself a slow, cruel smile before issuing orders. It did not bode well.

Aragorn knew that the orcs were going to capture him. He could not fight, trapped as he was…he could not even run away. The only thing he could do was to let go of the branch and letting himself fall to his death. But he was not one to give up, even in the face of torture.

But even as the orcs lowered on their own on a rope, he knew he would most likely regret not letting himself go.

And even as the orc grabbed him roughly, and hauled him back up, he hoped desperately that Legolas would help him, because he didn't know _how_ he was going to get out of this on his own.

And even as he was thrown to the ground and surrounded by a multitude of jeering, mocking orcs, he remember the last symptom to occur if he was not given the antidote in 48 hours. Around the 72 hour mark, anything painful to his body would be doubled, perhaps eventually tripled. No one knew how long the drug naturally lingered in the body, because anyone not given the antidote had committed suicide.

As the orcs showed him into a standing position and forced him to walk, he thought, "What a _pleasant_ way to drug a man…"

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I promise I'll update sooner!!! Please Review!!!


	5. Rescuer?

Yes, this is a short chapter!!!! I'm sorry everyone!!! School has started again and APUSH is going to kill me, but I will update this soon! ……..I've been writing this in math class ) Anyways, thanks to anyone who reads this!!!!

Oh....it was either review responses or have it posted now, and since it's been a bit since I've updated ducks objects people throw at her (sorry!) I thought it would just be better to post it right away.

BUT THANKS EVERYONE!!! )

**.. this.. is..where..the..story..starts..cuz...this...stupid..thing..won't...accept...anything...else**

Legolas frowned, his worry, finally getting the better of him. There were only two reasons for Aragorn not showing up yet: either he was playing his own game with the elf, or something had happened.

But what could have happened? Aragorn was a skilled warrior and ranger, and Legolas knew from experience that no matter how careful he was, Aragorn could still follow his trail with ease.

What the Valar was taking so long? Aragorn should have been here by now, even if something _had_ happened….even if his hands were bound behind his back and he was drugged…._DRUGGED!_ That must be it! It must be the roots acting up again…he knew, he _knew_ he shouldn't have used them, but they were all he'd had and he'd been planning on giving Aragorn the antidote right after he'd woken up. Thing hadn't quite worked out that way, though…

With a sigh, Legolas jumped lightly down from the tree in which he had perched. He back-tracked his way slowly, always looking for any disturbances. He found nothing.

At least nothing until he came upon tracks following his own. They wre Aragorn's tracks, and Legolas frowned down at them. Aragorn had evidently been following along, when suddenly, and for no apparent reason, he stopped and ran to the left. Legolas turned and followed these new tracks, which led him to a small clearing.

What he saw made him freeze—warg tracks! Legolas no longer was slow and cautious, he ran after the tracks, stopping suddenly when he came upon a mud-slicked hill, where the tracks ended. Legolas picked his way down slowly and searched the bottom carefully. What he saw was even worse than he'd thought.

Orc tracks stood out clearly on the muddy ground, as well as the imprint of a body on the ground. Crouching next to it, he knew that it was the mark of Aragorn's body. From that spot, other footprints, belonging to orcs, mingled with Aragorn's, and it was obvious that he had been dragged away. Legolas felt guilt was over him—Aragorn had been captured by Orcs!

Legolas looked down at himself and couldn't stop from swearing. Everything: his weapons, food, supplies, were up at the campsite. Everything but Aragorn's sword, which wasn't going to do a whole lot of good, and his hunting knife, which would do less. He ran back up there as fast as he could, knowing that every second he took the trail was getting cold.

So absorbed was he with trying to get back to the camp, mentally checking off what he'd grab and what he'd simply leave behind to lighten his load, he never saw the two dark shapes leap from behind the trees at the edge of the campsite. Not until they'd grabbed him at least, and by then it was far too late.

**this...is...where...the...story...ends...cuz...this...stupid...thing...won't...accept...anything...else )**

Oh no! Legolas captured as well? )

For those of you who are worried: things aren't always what they seem. Please review!!!!


	6. A Long Walk

All right….I don't really know how I can say this without being killed, but this is another short chapter. I know! I'm an evil writer who takes a while to write a chapter and then ends up making it short. I'M SORRY!!

Although, considering, this is actually probably record speed for me.

Anyways, as I said on my other story, I have good news and bad news. The bad news is that my computer has been down, which is why I haven't posted in a while. The good news is that my dad fixed my computer, and in the meantime I've written several chapters, and all that is left is typing and posting them! YAY! Go me!

Sooooo….this is a very very short chapter, but the next one is much longer. I just thought I should mention what's happening to Aragorn in the meantime. You know.

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REVIEWER RESPONSES:

Galadriel Evenstar — maybe, maybe not. You'll see next chapter!

neoinean – I'll give you a clue: it's one of those.

Mornflower – Yes…and it's not resolved until the next chapter, sorry!

EverKitsune – I agree that school sucks! And thanks!

Marbienl – What? No guessing? You're one of the few! Well, if you know, you'll find out next chapter. This one is an in-betweener. (I like to make up words )

Beling – I thought you might. Yes, Legolas is captured, and as for rescue…well, that won't be for a bit.

Elen uur – Thanks! Although, I have to be honest, I'm building on the character established in some of my fav. ff's…

Claudette – What? Call an elf stupid? lol…you're right though. Silly Legolas. Thanks!

bberry06 – Thanks! And I know it's short….Sorry!

Elenlor Edhelen – I am definitely considering your suggestion, and I think I have a friend who will do it for me, I just keep forgetting to ask. Thanks for both the suggestion and offer and I hope you like the (very) short chapter!

Crazyrabidfangurl01 – I'm sure your story is wonderful, and I promise to read it soon! And thanks, I'm glad you like it!

TenyaStar – I think I'll skip you. lol…Thanks for reviewing and I hate you for your two hour typing periods!!! I wish I had that…then people wouldn't always be yelling me to update…lol…..did you and Jace have fun?

Ainu Laire – lol…maybe. And I'm sorry, but you're going to have to wait for two more chapters!

Shadowfaxgal – Are you joking? "Sacrificed Hope" is one of my fav. ff's EVER! And trust me, you are a wonderful writer and I am SO pleased that you like my work! As for this story…well, this isn't the best chapter I've written by far, but I hope you enjoy it.

Nefhiriel – This isn't really soon and it was the end, so I'm sorry on both counts! Three, because this is short too!

Bookworm85 – Thanks! I'm glad you liked how I did it. I just wanted to show how close they were as friends.

A Sly Fan – Are you sure? Find out next chapter!

Boromir – I'm going, I'm going! lol, hope you like it.

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THE STORY STARTS HERE!!!!!

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Aragorn opened his eyes slowly, wondering momentarily why he was upside down and moving, decided it hurt his head too much to think, and merely watched the ground beneath him move. Gradually he was able to focus more and more on the creature carrying him, and when he remembered it was an orc he almost struggled. Instead he held back his instincts and hung there, feigning unconsciousness, while he observed his surroundings.

From his angle he could see they were passing through a forest. His arms were still bound by Legolas' elven rope as far as he could tell, which made sense. The orcs would probably avoid touching it. However, it seemed that another rope was attached to it, something that the orc was holding, because as the orc moved his free arm it pulled bit on Aragorn's arms. His ankles were bound as well, now. From his angle there appeared to be ten orcs—not very good chances for him.

Far up above the sky cracked a shot of lightning flashed, followed swiftly by the boom of thunder. Drops of water began falling down from the black sky, and Aragorn closed his eyes in exasperation. What could be worse?

In about ten minutes he was drenched to the bone and the snarling orcs had decided to take a break. The orc carrying Aragorn threw him to the ground, which had by now turned from dirt to mud. Reaching down the orc had cut the rope binding Aragorn's ankles and then dragged him back up to his feet and forced him to walk as they moved on.

As he walked, he was not sure when night turned to day or back, or when the knee-deep mud turned to waist-deep snow or even when the forest he was forced to turned to a mountain. They walked through the day as well, and back down the mountain, although when they reached the forest on the other side they set up camp and a stumbling Aragorn was bound to a tree. He looked up at it quietly, and although he did not have such magic as an elf had he whispered to the tree in Sindarin, "Estel was here. Estel was here," again and again while the orcs bickered and fought amongst themselves.

One of them seemingly pushed too far, because there was a flash of metal and a head went rolling on the ground. The winner of the fight turned and stalked over to Aragorn.

"He wanted us to bring you with us—too much work without fun. We ate not long ago—not hungry now. You come with us, we play with you and eat you when we need too."

"And if I don't come with you…" Aragorn asked, eyebrow raised.

"You will," the orc growled.

"Ah. I see." Aragorn looked at the sky. One more day. One more day and then it would get even worse.


	7. Of Friends and Foes

All right….this took forever, yes. And I really, really _was_ going to make it longer, but I didn't, and so I've decided to just post it like this, because something is better than nothing, right? Right? Okay…why is everyone glaring at me and holding pitchforks!

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REVIEWER RESPONSES:

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EverKitsune - Legolas is going to be having problems of his own….BEG

Chichiri's Wanderer - Read and find out: )

Mornflower - Thanks!

iccle fairy - Thanks! It's set before LOTR…..sorry, should have mentioned that earlier.

marbienl - Aragorn is nothing if not wise! Well….except for the whole getting caught thing…. : )

bberry06 - Well, this might be letting out a plot secret, but I do not kill my main characters : )

Elenlor Edhelen - LOL!

LadyArian - I'm sorry….I think it's just getting more confusing!

lindahoyland - that is pretty much it in a nutshell!

the-kaiba-heir - Thanks! And I will…faster too….I promise…..

Nefhiriel - Yes, there will be lots of Aragorn angst…..BEG and there will be guilt….Enjoy! lol

Shadowfaxgal - Thanks you so much! Just so you know, you now have a fan for life! grins No, really, you're an awesome writer and you have no idea how much I appreciate your comments….thanks!

Ainu Laire - LOL! Yes, Aragorn angst…unfortunately, I have this problem with long chapters….I don't do them. Sorry!

Yavie Aelinel - Define "soon." ducks assorted pots and pans um….I take it this isn't it?

ShadowDemon100 - Happy to hear it!

Joy - Telepathically might be a lot faster, but yes, I am (have, in fact) updated. It's a miracle! No, I really am sorry.

Washow - Yes, I'm so sorry! And I'm glad you like it!

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REVIEWER RESPONSES END

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Legolas struggled desperately against the two figures, knowing he _could not_ get captured. He struggled blindly, though, for the first thing the two had done was take a sack and pull it over his head. He didn't even know _what_ he was fighting, let alone who. They wrestled around on the ground, Legolas getting the rather raw end of the deal.

However, it appeared as if the two didn't want to hurt him, merely restrain him. Although Legolas didn't want to be _restrained_, either.

"By the Valar! Let me go!" Legolas yelled out, but neither responded. At last they stopped him, one sitting on his stomach while the other pinned his hands to the ground.

"Gag him," one growled, obviously trying to disguise his voice. The other carefully lifted the sack high enough up so that it still covered his eyes but freed his mouth. Then he/it tied proceeded to tie a piece of cloth around his mouth.

Legolas frowned—the cloth was obviously clean, and the two beings were treating him far too gently. By the Valar, what was going on?

They blindfolded him as well, and bound his hands behind his back. Then they lifted him onto his feet and shoved him forward, commanding him to walk. Legolas did not move, waiting to see their response.

"I will beat you within an inch of your life!" one growled, his voice threatening. As Legolas was gagged, he could not answer, but neither did he move which was response enough. His captors tied a rope to Legolas' hands and, holding the rope, shoved him forward again, to no avail.

Finally, still gripping the rope tightly, they began walking—forcing him to either stumble quickly backwards or be dragged along the ground. At first Legolas opted to be dragged along, but when he realized they were neither tiring nor seemed to care, he stumbled back up to his feet and walked with them at their first break.

For some reason, the two seemed very familiar, but blindfolded and reduced to listening to obviously disguised voices, he couldn't quite tell.

They walked for half-a-day, Legolas fearing that they were getting farther and farther from Aragorn.

Suddenly, the two shoved him down and flanked him, and Legolas could hear the whisper of bows being drawn.

"Who is there?" one called in a clear voice. An undisguised voice. A voice clearly belonging to one of Lord Elrond's sons…Elrohir. Which meant…

"Come forward!" Elladan cried.

By the Valar—why must he find his captors to be friends when threatened by danger? A bright flash of light enveloped them, piercing even through the blindfold, and the two elves protecting him cut his bonds and shoved his bow into his hands.

"Something is out there," Elrohir whispered, not wasting time on an explanation. A bright light flashed again, and they fell to the ground unconscious.

A

A

A

Okay….don't kill me! The next chapter is supposed to be Aragorn again, and I WILL make it longer! (I think)

Thanks!


	8. Fortune Favors?

AN: This is dedicated to Xx.Aranthi.xX for making me start writing it again. /grins/ Thanks!

…

…

It was raining…harsh, cold, sleeting rain that scraped the skin and froze the body. Mud clung to everything, and had become a sort of adhesive, making each step harder than the last. Even worse, the clouds had made the sky so overcast that they could barely see in front of them.

Aragorn was unconscious.

Several hours ago, an orc had taken it into it's rather small and presently missing head to punish the "man" for falling once more by sticking its knife into Aragorn's side. The wound had bled considerably, but the self-appointed lead orc had, after chopping off the other's head, ordered it to be bandaged and then continue on. Aragorn had managed only ten or so steps before slipping once more, and this time he was slung over a shoulder—he had only lasted minutes of the jostling to his wound before succumbing to darkness.

Unfortunate as that be, it had saved him from a rather treacherous and even more painful climb, which evidently angered the orcs that were forced to carry him. More than once he was flung to the ground, thereby liberally coating him with mud as well. In fact, there was much grumbling in the ranks, and the lead orc, not failing to remember just how he came to his leadership position, decided they should look for some caves for shelter. This was roughly the same time that an orc dropped Aragorn in a small pond/lake (hard to tell in the dark) and he came sputtering up, trying bravely to balance on his overtired and frankly battered legs. This was very unfortunate timing.

The lead orc considered killing the orc for his stupidity, but decided against it when he realized this would leave him with only six followers. Besides, if he kept killing the orcs for their stupidity he would very quickly be left with none!

Instead, he ordered Aragorn to be helped out of the water he was currently drowning in, and made to walk alongside his captors. This didn't really agree with Aragorn, but evidently the orcs didn't care, because they kept forcing him along.

Which would of course be the exact (well, it may have been earlier, he was unconscious) moment that the last symptom of the serum kicked in, and the wound in side flared with intensity. Aragorn gasped and dropped to his knees.

"Get up, you filthy man," the lead orc snarled, and Aragorn slowly—ever so slowly—rose back to his feet, bound arms protecting his wound as much as possible. "Now walk," the orc demanded, and Aragorn closed his eyes and did so. His battered legs—also affected by the serum—screamed in protest, and he fought back the urge to fold in on himself.

'One more step, one more step, one more step, one more step…' he found himself chanting in his mind, and bit his lip to ignore the heat rushing through his body.

The orc shoved him from behind, and he stumbled in the mud, blinking his eyes against the harsh drops of rain. He caught himself, but he knew he couldn't keep this pace up for long…luckily, he was saved from this fate by the discovery of a cave. Rather _unluckily_ he was soon introduced to a worse fate.

He didn't scream, once.

Not when the orcs threw him to the ground and decided to live up to their words. Not when one pulled out a knife and buried it up to it's hilt in his shoulder. When one got a bit to close to his legs he caught it's head between his feet and snapped it effortlessly (seven orcs left) but after that they tied him down securely, kicking and scratching him in retaliation. In an odd sense of mercy, the serum that increased his pain to such levels buried him in that very pain, and he passed out long before the orcs had their fun. Even more fortunate, the orcs were not interested in hurting something when they could not see its pain, and they grew bored, retreating from the motionless man, and leaving him pinned to the ground with the knife.

So…not _too_ fortunate then.


	9. Captive Once More

AN: This chapter is based on Legolas, and the next will prob. be back on Aragorn. After that I might center one on Elrohir or Elladan. Your thoughts? Please R&R!

>

>>

Captive Once More

>

Legolas awoke with a stifled groan, brow wrinkling in consternation as events filtered back into his mind. He had been captured, then his captors and he had been captured, and he still hadn't found—_Aragorn!_ Aragorn has been captured as well! _Aragorn had been captured by Orcs!_ Legolas struggled vainly against his ropes, grey eyes flashing open in anger. He jostled something warm and soft with this elbow, and with a sinking sensation in his stomach turned to look down at the unconscious for of Elrohir. Elladan lay on the far side of Elrohir, and he met Legolas' eyes with a mixture of worry and guilt. Legolas tried to speak, but found that he was gagged. Frowning in concentration, he realized also that he had a bandage on his arm, where he must have cut himself when he fell.

Legolas rolled his eyes to try to get Elladan's attention, and then with a small shrug and a questioning stare tried to ask where their captor was. Elladan shrugged, although Legolas felt fairly sure he had understood the question. With a sigh, Legolas tried to get up, but quickly found not only was he bound; he was bound to both of Elrond's sons. Including Elrond's currently unconscious son. With a sigh he could only have learned form his human friend, Legolas let himself fall back to the ground, hands unproductively struggling with the bonds.

Off in the bushes, something moved, and Legolas' keen eyes immediately tried to pierce the leaves, but all he could make out was a flash of grey. Legolas' eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward just as Elrohir began to awaken. Elladan immediately leaned over to check on his brother, and Legolas, distracted, turned from the bushes and lost sight of whatever was there. Elrohir stirred again, and Legolas felt a fleeting sense of relief for the other, before hearing a noise behind him. He stiffened, and with a quick glance at Elladan ascertained he was not the only one that had heard the noise.

"Do not turn around," a voice ground out behind them, sounding like that of a cave troll. Legolas froze, knowing they would be at its mercy, as dawn was still hours away. "If you turn around, my face will the last you see."

Legolas nodded his understanding, fingers still desperately working the ropes. Behind him he felt something move, and forced himself not to flinch as he felt hands reach up to his head, readying himself to fight as well as he could, given the circumstances. However, before he made a move, hands—rough, but by no means troll-like—placed a black cloth over his eyes before tying it into a blindfold, snuggly but not painfully. Denied his sight, Legolas breathed in the aroma of pipeweed, and, having already ascertained that he felt no evil emanating from the being, let himself relax fractionally. He could only hope that the being—though perhaps not evil by nature—did not hold elves in anger or distrust, as some men were want to do.

He heard their captor move down the row, assumedly tying blindfolds on Elrohir and Elladan as well. After he finished, he moved back to Elrohir and evidentially checked to see if he was fine—either that or, Legolas sighed, he was choosing which to eat first.

Once he seemed satisfied, he moved back to Legolas and began changing his bandage. He was surprisingly gentle, evoking a feeling of remembrance that Legolas could not quite identify. Perhaps a time Aragorn had taken care of him, he sighed, knowing it was probably the man's hands that brought back memories.

He sighed, reflecting on the lengths elves go to play practical jokes…they had really done it this time, hadn't they? Legolas had gotten Aragorn captured by orcs, and Elladan and Elrohir had gotten them captured by who knew what! Maybe a troll! _Trolls don't put bandages on_… he thought suddenly, realizing their captor was most probably a man. Although there had been rumors of slave traders…


	10. Enemy of My Enemy

Aragorn awoke to a heavy object falling across his legs. His first conscious thought was that the orcs were trying some new method of "punishment," until his senses caught up and he heard the sound of battle. He brought his legs up and pushed the dead body—an orc, a detached part of his brain recognized—off of him. Still caught up in the adrenaline of the moment, and subdued by the fog of sleep, the pain had yet to crest. However, as soon as he brought his free legs back down in a swinging gesture meant to flip himself back onto his feet, it hit him in wave, barely in time to let him drop his feet and his momentum before he tore his dagger-impaled shoulder further. There is not much more frustrating to a warrior than being forced to be an observer to a battle—especially one that could hold the outcome of his life.

From his low position, he caught only glimpses of the battle, but it was enough to see that the orcs enemy—_the enemy of my enemy is my friend—_were humanoid and, if the half-face he saw under the swirling cloak was any indication, men. He was distracted from such thoughts when an orc's head landed next to him, staring grimly into his eyes. And in the midst of such carnage, he could not help quirk a grin, remembering the promise to himself the night before, that he would see the orcs dead. _See them, well enough…_

Beside him, a figure crouched down, peering at the bloodied ranger.

"'ello, then…what 'ave we here?" Aragorn was spared answering when the figure—man?—swiveled back to his feet in time to block an oncoming blow. The battle—skirmish? How many men—_figures?_—were there?—raged around him, while he lay, by now nearly unconscious once more, trying desperately to reach the knife in his shoulder with his "good" hand. He didn't notice when the sounds of combat faded to a close, but when a hand clasped his and pulled it back to rest on his chest, he frowned up at the figure. Man?

"'ow 'bout some 'elp, suh?" the man—figure?—offered. Aragorn tried to focus on the blurry thing above him. "Some bandages, Dranon!" the other called, turning momentarily away. _Where, by the Valar, was he?_

"Torell!" a deep voice growled, and Aragorn's brains scrambled to reassure himself it wasn't an orc. Or a troll. Or Valar knew what else…

"Yes, Stanton?"

"Don't damage the bloody prop'ty!"

_Prop'ty? Prop'ty. Property. Ah, yes. By the Valar, yes…he knew where he was now. _As the knife was slid out of his shoulder and his world exploded around him, the detached part of his brain silently observed _…so the rumors were true…_


	11. Is My Friend

So I just started college, and work, and somehow or other I still seem to be having more time than I did before, so I've been updating my stories...next chapter should be back on Aragorn.

...Is My Friend...

Their captor kept their hands tied to leashes and forced them—half-stumbling with their blindfolds—onward. After only five or so hours he—it?—ordered them to stop, and then they waited—sitting on the forest floor—for another hour. Elladan and Elrohir were able to easily recognize they were only a day or so out from Rivendell, but they could neither communicate with Legolas or each other nor put in motion an escape plan, blindfolded, gagged, and tied as they were.

At last they heard the sounds of horses…and elves? What was their captor doing? Planning? The elves cam closer and Elladan and Elrohir felt rage build up inside as they drew the obvious conclusion: their captor was holding them for ransom and the elves were coming to discuss terms. Elrohir in particular sat tensely on the ground, waiting for his opportunity. By the Valar, he would not go easily!

He felt what he could only assume was their captor tying their leashes to a tree or a stake in the ground, and walking over to speak with the elves. Elrohir growled softly deep in his throat, knowing his opportunity was at hand but still unable to extricate himself from the rope.

He could hear voices speaking, but even with his unbelievable elven hearing he couldn't make out the words, whether due to the distance or the volume of the speakers he couldn't be sure. Footsteps drew closer.

"Let me present you," he distinctly heard his captors say, "With this fine specimen of an Elf." A hand closed around his wrist, pulling him to his feet, and he felt the blindfold and gag fall away as if by magic. He blinked at the sunlight in his eyes, and then blinked again in shock and consternation.

"Ada?" He blinked once more and looked at his captor. His captor? "As if" by magic?

"Greetings, Elrohir."

"By all the Valar—Gandalf?"


	12. The Rider

AN: It's always exciting when you accidentally add a new, unplanned character to the plot

AN: It's always exciting when you accidentally add a new, unplanned character to the plot! lol...but I rather like Colin. He was supposed to have one line and then he kept talking and I was like "quiet brooding man, this isn't your story!" but then he kept it up and suddenly he'd wormed his way into the plot…

…**The Rider…**

Aragorn woke up sharply, a slow moan bubbling out of his throat. He became immediately aware of the low murmur of voices surrounding him and a strange jostling. A cool hand settled on his forehead and his eyes snapped open, recent memories flashing back into his mind.

His arm was instinctively reaching up to grab the wrist, but his body screamed in protest and he let his arm lay still as his eyes focused on the face attached to the hand.

A girl—a young girl—maybe eight? Ten? Tear tracks showing white against her dirty face, a dark bruise covering her right cheekbone.

"How are you feeling, Sir?" she asked softly, her voice that high, young pitch and Aragorn felt his stomach clench.

_Slavers…_

"I'll be all right," he assured her, watching her watch him. He pulled his eyes away long enough to examine his surroundings—they were in a large cart that was completely barred on the sides and top, and it was being drawn by horses. Nine—ten?—people were shoved in close proximity.

"Are you with anyone here?" he asked her, trying to keep her from getting upset.

"They took me from me mother 'n father, sir. They said I'll never see them again." Her hand found his, clutching it desperately as her bottom lip quivered but she forced herself not to cry.

"What's your name, little one?" he asked softly.

"Laylen," she whispered back, eyes finding his again. "Are you the Rider from the stories?"

Aragorn squeezed her hand.

"Are you the Rider who saves the village from the darkness?" she repeated, her voice a little stronger, louder, confident. He was battered and bleeding but she trusted him as only a child can trust—with hope and blind faith against the night.

_I'm just a man,_ he tried to say, but he couldn't, because he couldn't bring himself to add to her pain, and the others in the cart have turned towards her voice and grown silent, watching.

"Laylen," he said at last, but a man interrupted—tall and brooding and trying to hide his fear.

"There is no Rider, girl," he spit. "It's just a story."

"Leave the child alone," a younger woman frowned, turning on the man. "Let her have some hope, it can do no harm."

"Are you the Rider?" the girl asked, but her voice was too loud and they all knew it instantly. To a man they shoved her down in their midst, away from the bars.

"Stay quiet, girl," the brooding man growled but there's the softest hint of concern in his voice, and Aragorn relaxed slightly.

" 'ey!" a rider shouted, drawing even with the cart, banging on the bars of the cage.

"Stanton," the brooding man muttered.

"Quiet in there!" Stanton's eyes rove over the sea of faces. "Is it that little hellion again?" he demanded, and the man—the brooding man—shook his head. "Colin, you daft pig, if you keep tryin' t' protect 'er I'll finish what I started on yer' back!" His eyes settled on Aragorn and he grinned slightly.

"Let's ask our secondhand prisoner 'ere—was it the girl makin' that racket?"

"No, I—when I woke up I pulled my shoulder and the pain…I yelled out and—"

Stanton let his smile slip away. "You'd be better off not lying to me," he growled.

"I'm not lying."

"You _will_ learn to obey. I'm a lot more skilled than those bloody orcs."

"What do you expect from a wanderer?" Colin spit, shooting Aragorn a glare. "He's probably been hit in the head too many times."

Aragorn's back stiffens but he stayed silent and took the hint, letting his head loll slightly, leaning more against the bars. Stanton looked him up and down and then shook his head.

"No, he'll fetch a fair amount of coins, but he's too wild, too spirited now. He needs to be broken."

As Stanton pulled away, the people in the cage slowly sank back down, rearranging themselves. Colin pulled close and looked thoughtfully at Aragorn.

"So you're the girl's Rider, eh?" he asked softly, and Aragorn allowed a small smile to tug at his lips.

"For the moment I'm a little more concerned about living through the night." Colin settled down next to him as some of the women fussed over Laylen.

"That was brave, what you did for the girl. Thank you. And they won't kill you. Not if you'll fetch a good price."

"Well, that certainly makes me feel better," Aragorn smirked.

"What's your name, stranger?" Colin asked, curious, as Laylen climbed over to nestle between the two men.

"Strider," Aragorn replied evenly. "I'm a ranger."

"And the Rider," Laylen added softly, and Colin couldn't help a small chuckle escape.


	13. Making Plans

…**Plans…**

"Gandalf!" Elladan and Elrohir echoed, shocked. Two elves helped the brothers out of their bonds, as Legolas narrowed his eyes at the quite self-satisfied wizard. His eyes drifted across the group of elves before settling on Elrond. He paled immediately and Elrond raised an eyebrow.

"You…oh…this is a terrible mistake, all of it!" Legolas whispered, before his eyes landed on Elrond's sons.

"Elladan! Elrohir! Do you know what you've done? Gandalf, what were you thinking you—you grey cloaked _fool!_" Legolas growled, furious at everyone around him, including himself.

"Legolas?" Gandalf asked, stepping forward, edges of worrying beginning to slide across his face.

"We have to go _back,_" Legolas whispered. "Now, we have to go back now—" he pinned Elrond with his eyes. "I need a horse, _now_. And a pack. I have to find him."

"Legolas?" Elladan asked.

"What's wrong?" Elrohir continued. Legolas shook his head and then glanced back at the forest behind him.

"It's all gone so horribly wrong. I have to save him—he trusted me and look where it's got him!"

Elrond moved through the group, the pit slowly dropping out of his stomach. He grabbed Legolas' arm, meeting his eyes squarely. "What's happened? Tell me everything."

"Aragorn. He's—it was just supposed to be for _fun_. Dares and tricks and…orcs took him. I was following his tracks…but with the rain, and then..." he ducks his head to hide the fury he can't help but feel for himself and everyone around him. Forces himself not to blame Elladan or Elrohir or Gandalf, because really, _he'd left Aragorn defenseless. He'd left him alone and defenseless and hadn't found him and now…what?_

"Orcs took him?" Elrond asks, his voice the barest whisper, eyes dark and furious and then he nods, sharply, walking back to the group of elves that have now drawn in amongst themselves, whispering in shock. He delivers a series of curt, low orders, and then returns to where Legolas is still standing, frozen to the ground. "They'll gather supplies. Go rest, we'll leave in two hours."

"We?" Legolas echoes, and Elrond, Lord of Rivendell, draws himself up to his full height.

"I and a group of trackers will accompany you. Whatever it takes we will find those orcs, and deal with them accordingly."

Dimly Legolas thinks he should be glad that he has never caused Elrond to look at him as he looks now, with fire and darkness and all the power he holds but rarely shows. Behind them, Gandalf steps forward, and he looks older then he did moments before, older and angrier and he says, softly, "I'll come with. If it's orcs you're after I can help with that."

Elladan and Elrohir nod half-numbly, assuming their presence will be accepted, and Legolas, standing in the circle of his friends, sends out a silent prayer that they'll be in time, that Aragorn will have the chance to see what he means to his friends and how willingly they step up to help him. _And that he'd have the chance to forgive them for well and truly ruining everything._

"He'll be all right," Elladan whispers, and Elrohir nods.

"If anyone will be, he will."

And Legolas thinks of the last time he saw him, _bound and laughing and furious and demanding and _he knows he has to tell them_ about the herb and the ropes and the reason why Aragorn was helpless._

And Elladan and Elrohir know they'll have to admit that they _hadn't thought, hadn't noticed that Legolas was tracking someone, hadn't spared a thought for Legolas' constant traveling companion._

And Gandalf hates himself for being _irresponsible _and _laughing_ as he told Elrond that he had captured his children making fools of themselves.

_Everything's fun and games until a dear friend is captured by orcs somewhere in the wilderness and no one realizes until maybe too late._

"Two hours," Elrond repeats, and walks away, knowing there is more to the story but knowing even more then that that if he hears one more word from any of them he won't be able to stop himself from saying something he'll regret. And right now there isn't time for that. There isn't time for anything, at all, but he, _Lord of Rivendell_, can only hope that Aragorn can be as strong as everyone believes he is.


	14. Important Whispering

…Important Whispering…

Aragorn was thrown quite roughly to the ground, and he couldn't quite suppress the moan that followed. Inside the cart, the others avoided meeting his eyes, and an impassive Colin held back a sobbing Laylen.

"Well, well, well," Stanton smirked, circling the helpless ranger. "Y'are a pretty one, I'll give ye that, although ye've taken a bit of batterin' recently. Tell me," he said with a dark sort of smile, putting the heel of his booth onto Aragorn's very recent dagger wound, "'ow's the shoulder?" He leaned forward on that foot and Aragorn half-screamed incoherently as his entire left side felt like it went up in flames.

"_Please—_" a half-hysterical Laylen screamed, but Colin covered her mouth with his hand, the other still holding her back, and she fell silent, her eyes still silently overflowing.

"Little girl's quite taken wif ye', stranger," Stanton spit, dark eyes flashing maliciously. "Take 'er out," he ordered two of his men. "We'll show 'im what punishment kin really mean."

At that Aragorn tried to struggle up but Stanton kicked him in the side, knocking him back down. Aragorn swore under his breath as he saw Colin tense in preparation, and with a growl he came to the only possible course of action. Willing his body into action he forced himself up once more, and as Stanton's foot kicked out he brought his head directly into its path.

Everything went dark.

…X…

"Stay down," Colin murmured the moment he felt Aragorn's arm tense in returning wakefulness. Aragorn forced himself to relax his body and keep his eyes closed as memories came flooding back.

"Worked?" he breathed out, careful to barely move his lips. A small snort followed his question.

"Stupid idiot," Colin whispered, a bit of affection in his voice. "Could've killed yourself. But yes. She's all right for now." He paused, gathering his thought. "I heard them talking, we're about two days from the town they're taking us to. If we're going to escape it has to be soon."

"Plan?" Aragorn murmured, and again he heard a faint snort of amusement.

"Hell if I know. Get the girl and maybe some of the women out. We'll probably die. You're the girl's rider, shouldn't you have a plan?"

"Head," Aragorn moaned. The sound following this was definitely a muffled snort of laughter.

"Good excuse."

Aragorn hummed softly in thought. "Later," he breathed, and Colin touched his arm in acknowledgment and leaned back.

…X…

"Thought," Aragorn whispered, and Colin jerked from his own thoughts which had drifted from escape to a nice pint with a start that Aragorn felt. Colin leaned over him.

"Yes?"

"River close," Aragorn informed him softly, and heard Colin's surprised intake of breath.

"You've been here before!"

"Mm," he replied brightly. "Waterfall," he added, wincing at the amount of syllables it took. There was a short pause.

"I won't like this plan, will I?" Colin sighed.

"Jump," Aragorn agreed, trying to hide the smile tugging at his lips.


	15. Rustling Rumors

AN: This is called artistic license. And yes, I've been relying quite heavily on it in this fic, lol...

...X..

…Rustling Rumors…

…X…

They'd started off a couple of hours ago, the silence uncomfortable, especially with Elladan and Elrohir, who were always chattering away when in each other's company. Elrond and Gandalf led the party, although from the set of his shoulders it was obvious that Gandalf would rather have been situated far away from his friend.

Legolas, who followed directly behind, knew the feeling, as guilt was eating up his insides in a most uncomfortable way. _How could be have so careless?_

They'd been at a hard pace, although from the short discussion he, Gandalf, and the twins had had an hour ago, they'd realized that between the two mock-kidnappings they'd managed to double back and forth along the same area, meaning that they had less ground to cover until they reached where Aragorn had been left. Finding him once they got there…well, that was best left for later contemplation, since there was nothing he could do about it presently…

The sky above showed that dawn was finally breaking, and while Legolas appreciated the extra light he couldn't help but count the minutes and hours and days that Aragorn had been left, helpless and alone.

"We'll find him," Elladan, said softly, glancing over at his friend. Elrohir rode up on Legolas' other side.

"Our brother won't go so easily into the night," he said. "He'll be all right."

Legolas nodded, but didn't quite trust his voice, didn't quite think he could push words through his constricting throat.

Six hours later, Legolas cut down Aragorn's sword from where it hung in the branches, still untouched.

All across the ground tracks criss-crossed, but orcs and wargs had traveled the path. _There was,_ Legolas thought, grim and terrified, _at least no bones._

Six more hours, following the vague tracks that had been almost completely washed away, Legolas laid a hand on a tree in despair. Whatever ground they'd gained earlier had almost certainly been lost traipsing about, trying in vain to follow a trail that was gone more than it was there.

"_Aragorn," _ he whispered, shutting his eyes tightly, fingertips pressing into the wood.

"_Estel," the tree whispered back._ Legolas' eyes snapped open, surprised.

"_Estel?"_

"_Little one. They hurt him. He was Syhla's seedling. Little elf-man."_

"_Syhla…?"_ he asked, confused.

"_He rode her branches. He fell and hurt and always returned."_

Legolas blinked. _"Where is Estel?"_

"_They took him towards the sun, towards the old ones."_

"_Old…the mountains?"_

"_The old ones,"_ the tree whispered, and then its branches stopped rustling, and it was silent.

"Elrond!" he called, turning back to the elves who still sat atop their horses. "Aragorn is towards the mountains!"

Elrond stared at him, confused. "How do you know? The trail—"

"Tell me, did Aragorn ever fall from a tree when he was young and hurt himself?"

Elrond frowned, but Elladan immediately cut in. "He lived in that Oak, remember Father?"

"He broke his arm that one year."

"What does that have to do about anything?" Elrond frowned. Legolas smirked.

"The trees remember. And gossip. And evidentially _little Estel_ was a favorite topic," he said. Then he frowned. "We should hurry. If the trees are worried, than we should be as well."


	16. Plans are Overrated

...Plans are Overrated…

./.

Stanton called for a break several hours later, and while Colin stiffened next to him, Aragorn had a feeling that they were still in too much of a rush for Stanton to make good on his promise. At least, he dearly hoped it was the case.

They were, however, at the edge of the water, and their plans became immediately clear when Stanton had Dranon and the others lead the prisoners out one-by-one and unceremoniously dunk them in the water.

_Cleaning the property so it'll sell better. How…nice._

In the meantime, Torell had shoved rather roughly past Stanton in order to see to his charge—Aragorn, who was admittedly not doing all that well. At all.

Colin kept shooting nervous looks at Aragorn as one by one the others were led out, cleaned as well as they could chained and still clothed, and then brought back in.

Their turn was obviously fast approaching, and Colin had no idea what Aragorn was planning, if anything. While there was a slim possibility one of them could escape, certainly not both, and definitely not with anyone else, such as Laylen.

And Colin wasn't about to leave Laylen to the men, self-preservation or not.

Aragorn looked decidedly out of it, as well—not that it was any wonder, the state that the Ranger was in, but still, he'd looked as if he were the sort that could handle this sort of thing, and it was a tad disappointing that he'd been knocked about to such an extent before even being in the position to help. So Colin kept looking, considering how exactly he was supposed to single-handedly free these people, when he didn't even feel he was up to freeing himself.

Torell kept making tut-tutting noises as he examined Aragorn's bandages, and didn't appear to be finishing at any point soon, much to his disappointment.

Finally, when the guard gestured for Colin, Aragorn threw caution to wind and, shoving Torell out the way, bandages flapping, he flat-out punched Colin in the face.

Dranon stared at them in confusion as they both collided into the side of the cart, sopping wet fellow prisoners scrambling to get out of their way.

"You dare say that?" Aragorn yelled at the top of his lungs, and Colin stared at him blankly before sneering.

"You cannot protect yourself, let alone the girl. What sort of Ranger are you, anyway?"

He shoved Aragorn—hard—and Torell squawked as his patient fell to the floor of the cart.

"Leave 'im be, Colin, 'e's not in any sort of—"

Aragorn, as was becoming his habit, passed out fairly convincingly. Torell sighed and began retying the bandages, and Dranon cursed under his breath.

Stanton rolled his eyes at the group.

"Perfect, Colin, ye're a bloody idiot, aren't ye', then? Well, bring 'im out, 'm not goin' t' be 'elping ye haul the lunk to the river."

Colin glared. "I'm not helping the—"

"He needs t' be cleaned, as do ye', even if ye've lost all sense of smell, so take 'im out to the river," Stanton ordered, taking a firm step closer and crossing his arms, and Colin reluctantly backed down.

He grabbed Aragorn firmly and hauled him over his shoulder, despite Torell's concerns about ribs, etc., and walked, with a glare, past Stanton. Dranon followed him, weapon in hand, as he had with the others, and held Colin's chain firmly as he went in the river. As soon as they were in, Aragorn opened his eyes and, looking Colin firmly in the eyes, nodded. Colin winced, but nodded with a sigh, and Aragorn shoved off the bottom of the river, grabbed Colin's chain, and pulled Dranon in.

Dranon yelled but let go of the chain, and Aragorn shoved it at Colin, pushing him away as he himself turned towards Dranon.

Colin shoved off the river towards the sound of the waterfall, all the while swearing underneath his breath, and Aragorn punched Dranon in the face.

Stanton had, of course, by this time been alerted, but Colin was swimming with the current, and the last they saw of him was going over the edge.

A swearing Stanton dove in and helped wrestle a very worn out Aragorn into submission, and as for the umpteenth time in the last couple of days he was knocked unconscious, he hoped Colin would have a chance to hide and figure out the next step of their terribly haphazard plan before Stanton caught up with him.

Aragorn had done all he could for the moment.

./.


	17. Seek and Ye Shall Find

**…Seek and Ye Shall Find…**

./.

The problem was not the dead bodies of the orcs, or the scavengers that hadn't willingly left their dinner for the elves to examine.

The problem was not even human bodies, as there were none to be found, despite the fact that the orcs had quite obviously done battle with some other group, given their positions.

The problem was the human bodies that had been carefully laid on a pyre and burned. Not buried or sent over the river, but still dealt with in a more civilized manner than the scattered orc corpses. Clearly the humans had carried the day, especially since the number of orc corpses matched the number they had been tracking.

There was blood in the cave that hadn't been washed away. Knife marks that showed that someone had been pinned to the ground. Aragorn had been here, yes, but what had happened, and where was he now?

_And had he gone there willingly? And had he walked or been carried away?_

Human forms should've been comforting, but Elladan and Elrohir had ridden these paths before, and all knew the stories of slavers in the cities to the south.

The tracks outside had been softened by the rain, but people had walked this way, people had left this area alive.

So they followed, unsure what they would find.

Sure only that Aragorn would fight past all hope.

Past all reason.

Halfway down the mountain, the tracks broke to the side, and the smoldering ruins of a village stood outlined by the sky.

What people that were not lying dead between the charred buildings were missing. Some tracks showed them scattered to the east.

And still the slow inexorable tracks heading south, with the burdened cart, with a cargo they can guess.

Slavers to the south, and hurrying now.


	18. Makeshift Help in Odd Places

…**Makeshift Help in Odd Places…**

./.

Colin lay on the riverbank for a long moment after he'd crawled, half-choking, out of the water. Today was shaping up to be just stellar. The chain had weighed him down and the current had been brutal and despite the fact that there was a strong chance that Stanton and co. were descending (the much less painful way) to find him, he could not force him body past its limits. _Just a few moments, and then he'd get up._

Get up and do what, exactly, he wasn't sure. He'd escaped the slavers, which was fantastic news, but he wasn't about to leave Laylen at their mercy. Or even the girl's rider, despite the fact that he'd probably be able to handle matters if worse came to worse. And the others in the cart, desperate and half-resigned to their fate deserved better than he could probably give them, but he was still going to do his damnedest to help.

Once he got his breath back.

A noise to the right, and he sat up, heart pounding in his chest.

_Stanton couldn't have gotten down here this fast, even by himself, could he?_

He staggered to his feet, the chain clenched in his hands like a weapon, the metal digging into his flesh as he slowly moved to the sound, unwilling to be caught off-guard again.

"_They're around here somewhere!" _a man's voice growled, and Colin frowned, uneasy.

"We're not even on the trail anymore! Father, we're all worried about Laylen, but we have to get back on the trail, we aren't doing her any good by wandering aimlessly. We _have_ to go back and find the trail!"

"That's wasting time she doesn't have, I know they're close by, we just have to—"

"Us getting lost will only hurt her chances of being freed. _Father_, we _must_ go back!"

Colin peered through the trees and saw two men, one older, one younger, arguing (would-be quietly) amongst themselves. Twenty or so yards away from them, still in the clearing, a group of around twenty others, stood, some leaning on weapons casually, others looking around them with ill-concealed fear. There were men, but several women as well, and they looked as ill-fitted a rescue mission as could be, but clearly they had good intentions, and more clearly, they were all the help that Colin would be lucky to get.

Hands up, he took a deep breath and then walked out into the clearing. He stood his ground firmly as weapons were immediately raised in his direction and then wavered as they saw his chains and the bruises on his skin.

"Who are you?" the older man asked gruffly.

"My name is Colin," he replied. "I know where Laylen is. I can take you to them."


	19. This'll be Interesting

**…This'll be Interesting…**

./.

_Someone was shaking him awake._

"Mrghrh. Leg'las, go 'way," Aragorn grunted, shifting, and then frowning when something restricted his arms. "Ell'dan?" he grunted, suddenly suspicious, but once his eyes snapped open everything snapped back.

"Are you all right?" Laylen asked, leaning _very_ close to his face. He jerked back instinctively, cracking his head on the side of the cart.

"I'm fine," he grunted through a clenched-teeth smile, forcing himself up into a sitting position.

"Colin escaped," Laylen said, and he exhaled in relief.

"Good," he replied, "That's very good."

"What's going to happen to us?" Laylen asked, her voice shaking a little, and Aragorn frowned a bit at the fear in her voice. He reached out and pulled her in to him, holding her close and resting his chin atop her head.

"It'll be all right," he said. "Colin will get help or cause a distraction, and we'll get out of here."

"But what if he's hurt and he can't?"

"Laylen," Aragorn, pulling her back and tilting her head up so he could look her in the eyes, "I'll get you out of here if I have to take on everyone out there on my own."

She smiled through watery eyes, and he grinned back, mentally praying that it didn't come to that, considering how his muscles clenched and unclenched against the pain that was still ripping through his body. He wasn't sure how he'd be able to, but he was planning on keeping his promise. Which meant that this time he actually needed to have a plan. A very, very good plan.

He glanced around the cart, considering what he had to work with. _Not much at all._

Once he started something, he felt that most of the others would help, as long as he appeared to have the upper hand. However, he was equally sure that only one or two of them would be willing to start something with him, and even then, only if he guilted them about the girl.

There had to be…_oh._

Well.

If he seized the perfect moment, and took them by surprise right when they were…

Hmm. There's no way it'd work.

But then, he'd had practice beating ridiculous odds, hadn't he?


End file.
